Wildfire
by eotopia
Summary: Wildlife revisited (S10, E7). "A guys gotta eat." Ever wondered what would have happened if Bushido had let Elliot have his meal? (Sidebar: I know there are 1000 Wildlife fanfics out there.. but lets make this is 1001.) E/O. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: I have been meaning to write a Wildlife fic 5-EVER!_

 _This is dedicated to AmyJ10 who I'm pretty sure wants this just as badly as Elliot does._

 _A_ _nd would you look at that, you didn't even have to wait until Christmas. ;)_

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 **WILDFIRE: CHAPTER 1**

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 _'$100 to watch, $250 to join.'_

 _'Each.'_

Those were the words resounding in Elliot's head as his attention focused solely on Bushido holding the gun to his face.

"Fine," Bushido rasps. "Get it out of your system, but the moment you're done with her - _she goes_."

He feels Olivia's palms continue to stroke the flesh of his lower back.

"You sure about that boys?" She whispers in their direction, that breathy tone making Elliot's abdomen throb. "You're gonna miss quite the show." She leans in then, her breasts pressing up against his chest, lace smoothing across his pecks as she wraps her arms around him, her glossy lips dangling in front of his face.

 _Jesus Christ._

She deserves an academy award for this performance.

His hand is on her waist trying to hold her stationery so he can keep his eyes on the men in the room to gauge their response but it's proving to be difficult with her moving around in his arms.

"You've got one hour. Then the bitch leaves."

Elliot nods in the direction of the men, more focused on Olivia's lips that seem to be inching closer and closer to his mouth. Then it's moments before he hears the front door slam to a shut and he feels her relax against his body.

She's about to move out of his hold when he catches it out of the corner of his eyes, a small red light blinking from the mantle - one he hadn't seen before.

Bushido must have just planted it when they weren't looking.

 _Fuck._

He feels her start to pull her arms away and he doesn't think. He grasps her lower back, keeping her flush up against him, turning her head quickly until his mouth is pressing firmly against hers, silencing her words with his lips.

A muffled sound leaves the back of her throat, her breath hitching in shock, his mind reeling at the softness of those plump lips. He can sense she is going to pull back any minute so he panics, using his body to back her firmly up against the wall. Her mouth parts from the pressure of brick against her body and he grasps her lower lip in a lingering peck, his heart thudding in his chest knowing he's only got seconds to explain this.

He pulls back slowly with a breathy exhale.

"Amber," he whispers, one hand cupping her cheek, the other holding her hip against the wall as he eyes her intently.

He prays the look in his eyes conveys all.

"That your name hon?"

He can't use real words, for all he knows there could be audio on that camera so he smooths his thumb over her cheek just waiting for her to respond.

But from the shocked look in her eyes, it's too subtle.

 _Amber._

Amber alert.

It's all too vague.

He watches her mind work overtime as her cleavage rises and falls beneath his.

He licks his lips, his eyes trailing down her chest to the tops of her breasts, drinking her in like an ass, pretending to cop a look as he goes in for another kiss just to bide time. This time he's far less frantic, her breath still hitching but she's starting to soften against him now, letting him part her lips with his, realizing there has to be something a miss for him to be doing this.

His chest pounds in response to her receptivity but it isn't long before her hands are coming up, she's trying to distance their hips but he panics thinking she's going to push him off again so he grasps her wrists, planting them shoulder height against the wall, moving the fullness of his body flush up against hers. A noise leaves the back of her throat as the muscle of his thigh incidentally presses between her legs.

"Elli-" The tail end of his name gets lost against his mouth as he purposefully slides his tongue between her lips because fuck – his name is Mike, not Elliot and he can't have that. His tongue flits against hers and she responds with a half-moan half-gasp as he continues to deepen the kiss, needing to shock her into going with this. His hands roam down the plains of her torso, until he is holding her hips against brick, pulling back with a slick pop.

"Or was it Violet?" he whispers finally, eyeing her slowly, his tone a warning as he raises his eyebrows, trying to keep his heart from thumping out of his chest.

 _He feels dizzy._

"They told me it was a colour."

 _It registers for her._

He sees it in her eyes.

Violet is the colour of the day.

He watches her swallow.

"That it baby?" He whispers, stroking her cheek, feeling her body visibly shiver against his touch.

She's breathing heavily as the information finally digests, the initial concern from his brash actions slowly dissipating as he feels her morph back into character. He presses his forehead against hers, just enough closeness to keep their act up for the camera as his grip on her wrists come off completely, relief spilling out of him that she understands they're still being watched.

He doesn't have to kiss her anymore, but it seems she doesn't realize that because she is bringing their lips back together, using her free hands to curl around his neck, drawing their bodies flush up against each other, making his chest pound with nerves.

"You gonna spend the whole hour talking?" She rasps against his lips, before she seizes them once more, her undercover facade back in full force. He feels a pang in his lower half as she nips at his lower lip, her lace-covered breasts purposefully scraping against his chest. He responds by clamping his mouth over her lower lip and sucking and she lets out a low, throaty moan.

 _Fuck._

 _She's good._

 _Too good._

He pulls back from the slick kiss, a stirring in his lower belly igniting a fire he can't even begin to process as he holds her face in his hands. His chest continues to pound and despite the way she is eyeing him he can see it beneath the veneer of cocky confidence.

 _She's just as petrified._

He lets out a few breaths as his eyes move between hers, panicking that he's making her uncomfortable.

"How bout you head into the bathroom?" He motions with his head, his thumb brushing over the smooth expanse of her cheek. He needs to get that panicked look off her face but he can't risk being overheard out here.

"I want you showered and ready before we play."

He sees a flicker of uneasiness move through her eyes at that comment and _fuck_ , he is going to hell for this.

But he needs her behind that bathroom door with the shower running.

Then he can explain everything.

 **TBC**

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 _AN: I mean this is really just Sin reversed.._


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thanks for the love!_

* * *

 **WILDFIRE: CHAPTER 2**

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He shuts the bathroom door and moves immediately towards the shower, switching it on full blast before he turns around to face her.

"There's a camera on the mantle, behind the photo frame," he whispers to the side of her face, noticing she's having trouble looking at him. "There's a red light on. I haven't seen it before, they must have just planted it when we were distracted." His throat is practically dry and he's nervous as hell. "God I'm sorry Liv," he whispers. "I didn't know what to do, I panicked. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay." Her eyes finally meet his, briefly holding them for a good moment before she looks away. "Does it ah… does it pick up audio?"

"I can't be sure," he whispers after a pause. "I assume so - either way, you need to go." He looks down to see she's still in her bra and pants. "Grab your shirt on the way out, take some money from my wallet, it's in my jeans over the chair - pretend you're ripping me off while I shower. Then call Cragen from the car."

She is shaking her head, her eyebrows furrowing. "Elliot, they told you one hour. If I go now it's only going to raise alarm bells - we're lucky they didn't drag both of us out of here just now."

Elliot swallows, his heart hammering at her refusal.

"Liv," he tries.

"Look it's simple," she blinks back at him. "We just wait it out until the hours over. Then I'll go."

"What.. in here?" He whispers, gesturing around the bathroom. "And that's not going to raise alarm bells?"

He sees something tick over in her mind and he takes a step towards her.

"Liv, I think you should just-"

But she's already turning away from him and unzipping her slacks, his eyes widening as he watches her start to slip the material down her hips.

He swallows as black lace comes into view.

 _Jesus.._

"Turn around Elliot." She calls over her shoulder.

He presses his eyes closed.

"You wanna tell me what you're doing?"

"You just told me to shower," she rasps. "So let me get my hair wet and I'll meet you out there."

He opens his eyes momentarily and catches her undoing her bra clasp.

 _Fuck._

He turns away from her completely, scrubbing a hand over his face - he cannot _believe_ this is happening.

"Go Elliot." He hears her say as she moves beneath the spray.

"Right and then what?" He whispers in a hiss towards the shower curtain, not entirely sure what she expects to happen out there.

"Then," Olivia's shaky voice answers beneath the spray. "We _play."_

His mouth parts in shock, his mind reeling at what she had just said..

He's rendered speechless.

"A simulation Elliot." She whispers, as water continues to pelt down on her naked body. "You got a better idea?"

 **TBC**

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 _AN: Apologies that this is short but I'm setting us up for a lengthy chapter 3 ;)_

 _And also yes, I know this is total OOC but I'm going there._


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: I have immensely enjoyed your reviews on this one!_ _I will be interested to see how this goes down.._

* * *

 **WILDFIRE: CHAPTER 3**

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He clicks the bathroom door shut behind him and moves into the bedroom.

 _Have you got a better idea?_

No he doesn't.

He doesn't have any ideas.

His ideas do not involve her naked in his shower.

They involve her fully clothed and safe at home.

It's 7 minutes later when the door to the bathroom opens again and he is standing beside the bed. Not under the covers, not ready - just standing there waiting.

He knows it's been 7 minutes because he's been counting them down on the bedside table clock.

And they still have 48 left.

Including the wall kisses.

Including their hushed bathroom conversation.

48 minutes until this is all over.

The steam pools around her feet as she steps into the bedroom. She's wrapped in a towel, her cleavage swelling between the firm knot between her breasts as her short brown hair twists into damp waves. Her wide, wet eyes blink in his direction as a put upon smile masks her lips. It looks like she's just swanned out of a day spa.

"Why aren't you under the covers?" She draws out huskily.

The tone of her voice, it's not Liv.

Not his partner.

 _Undercover Olivia._

A personality he knows well.

For a minute he wonders if that's her actual bedroom voice..

 _Jesus._ He wouldn't survive it.

She steps towards him, her look appearing far more confident, far more relaxed than it did 7 minutes ago and she isn't stopping.

She presses her flushed, pink, warm skin against his as her mouth flattens across his. Her lips are softer, plumper, warmer, damper and she's backing him slowly up against the wall - towel clad, her damp lips parting his mouth as her seemingly naked body bears no graces.

His hands come up, holding her bare upper back as he tilts her head, meeting her kiss that just happens to be in direct eyeline to the camera. She's no longer bra clad but it's her underwear he's concerned about, silently praying she managed to put them back on post her shower because he can't handle the alternative.

As she starts to deepen their kiss his hands slip upward, across her bare neck, fanning into her damp hair, as he sucks on her lower lip. She's kissing him avidly, head tilts, lips grasping, nipping, sucking, but no tongue he notices - the only telltale sign that this is just a show. She pulls back suddenly noticing he's more consumed in his thoughts than complying with her actions.

"You get soft all of a sudden?" She whispers against his mouth. It's barely audible enough for the camera to pick up and his stomach drops as her brown eyes hold his.

He does a double take.

 _Is she talking to him?_

 _Or to Mike?_

He doesn't know.

He doesn't know what part of this is real or imagined.

 _You get soft all of a sudden Stabler?_

 _Soft._

She just called him soft.

She wants him hard.

 _Fuck._

Not quite Stabler.

Just hard with your hands, with your mouth, with your body - against hers, not your dick. He grabs her firmly then, backing her towards the bed, guiding her by her upper arms, until the back of her knees hit mattress.

His chest pounding in confliction.

She wants him firm – hard - rough.

Makes sense.

He's not supposed to be gentle with a prostitute.

He's paying for sex after all.

But what does she expect him to do? Throw her down on the bed and go to town on her?

That damn towel will go flying..

Instead he uses his words.

"Lie down." His tone is low and firm and he watches as she intentionally smirks before scraping a hand low across his bare abdomen on her pursuit towards the bed.

He grasps her forearm suddenly, stilling her in place before he tugs her back towards him.

They make eye contact.

"Towel on," he warns.

It's just for her.

And it's a risk.

What man in his right mind would ask her to keep her towel on? But tussling with a towel separating their bodies he can handle… skin on skin was another story. He watches her drag down the comforter and he figures maybe towels could be Mike's kink, maybe his intention is to tug it off her last minute like she's a damn prized Twinkie.

She slips under the covers, holding the knot of her towel as she moves along, making room for him to join her. He gathers all the strength he can possibly muster before he slides under the covers and moves on top of her.

There is no point in drawing this out, so he seals her lips with his right away, keeping his weight on his elbows and his lower half as raised as possible as he moves a thigh between her legs. She tugs his face down, opening her mouth to him, slick sounds filling his ears as she kisses him heatedly.

She's moaning already - put upon, embellished sounds and heaven help every part of him when he feels the knot between her breasts rub back and forth against his chest and start to loosen. Maybe Mike likes to fuck gently - that's all he keeps thinking because he can't fathom getting rough with her when she's in that towel.

She parts his lips once more, trailing her tongue across his lower lip and there is something about the heat, the softness, her wet hair, the slick sounds, her plump lips, her warm flushed moist skin, the way she's already arching her chest into him as breathy exhales escape between her parted lips. It's far more sensual than he expected. He'd always imagined, frantic, heated – no holds barred fire – up against walls, tables, closets.

But Olivia is soft, sensual, excruciating heat. _Dear God ..is this what sex with Olivia would be like?_ Their eyes lock and a flicker of God knows what passes through her and maybe she's reading his perverted mind and it doesn't matter he figures which way they pretend to fuck - either way he is fucked.

He feels her hands moving from the back of his neck down his shoulders until they're trailing down the sides of his torso, pulling the sheet downward a little exposing his chest and back to the camera.

A quiet but purposeful moan escapes her lips before she draws his face back down to hers and whispers against his mouth.

"How do you want me?" The words vibrate against his lips and he swallows, pulling back a little to catch the look in her eye.

 _Jesus Christ._

All he can focus on is that image.

Her docile eyes staring up at him.

Her rosy damp lips, parted as silent breaths escape her.

Asking him, 'how he wants her.'

 _Fuck me._

God he wants her.

That's what he wants to say.

That he always _has_.

That he always _will_.

That Gitano, Oregon and Stuckey proved that to him ten times over.

But now, in this instance, with cameras, criminals and covers.

He wants her silent.

 _Unassuming._

 _Still._

Quiet as fuck as they count down these minutes.

All 39 of them.

"Slow." He warns her.

That's how he wants her.

At glacial speed.

Because it's all he can manage at that point.

He lowers his mouth, dangling his lips just above hers, taking his time - doing everything he shouldn't be doing with a 'hooker'. She arches up then, trying to get them back into character attempting to reunite their lips but he switches gears, moving his mouth down to the column on her throat.

He kisses her neck and feels her hands sliding back up his torso, lightly trailing across his flesh. He wants to draw this out so long that she gets kicked out before they even get to second base. He nips at her neck, still resting the bulk of his weight on his elbows as he feels her hands move lower, down the centre of his chest, slowly moving across his abdomen and between their bodies.

She starts to stroke the patch of hair just above the waistband of his jocks and he stares down at her in question, his heart thudding, realizing she's simulating a hand job beneath the covers. He watches her intently, his mouth parted as she continues to 'stroke him', her fingertips knocking the waistband of his underwear with each caress.

God she looks so content just lying there, hair splayed out against the pillow, moist lips parted as she pretends to jerk him off and he feels dizzy. He moves forward with the motion rocking subtly into her hand, giving off the impression he's thrusting into her palm and the fact that they have this unspoken rhythm working for them is making his head spin.

His chest is pounding not sure how much of this is real or imagined so he dips his head downward so she can hear him.

"Tell me what you like… tell me what you _don't_ like, you got that Violet?" He whispers huskily, realizing the heat in his voice was unnecessary considering the cameras proximity.

But it's a message.

He may set the pace here.

But she makes the rules.

He does something she isn't comfortable with - _she stops him._

Because he has no idea where this is headed..

"You're paying." Her voice drags before she reaches up with her free hand cupping his cheek tugging his neck down, her lips running up the expanse of his throat before her tongue darts out across the column of his neck. "You can have me whatever way you like," she whispers as she encircles the lip of his briefs.

That's it.

He moves his mouth downward then and he kisses her.

 _Hard._

And it's not Mike.

It's Elliot, reacting to Olivia Benson's husky as fuck voice, her tongue, her hand and that fact that she's acting like a goddamned porn star beneath him.

He kisses her firmly, taking everything in him not to ram his tongue in her mouth then and there. He pulls her hand away from his jocks and presses it shoulder height on the bed, his brief clad crotch settling in against her towel. He parts her legs, widening her thighs with his hips and her exhales are now coming out in short, measured breaths. He hooks a hand under her knee and tugs her further down the bed, moving them into a position where they are covered enough to simulate thrusting, but when his mouth returns to her neck he feels it.

Her uncovered breasts meeting directly with the wall of his chest.

 _Fuck._

She is breathing heavily, the scrape of her erect nipples causing a pang in his lower abdomen. He reaches for the towel but hits skin, realizing it must have slipped open when he dragged her downward. He can do this he thinks, just block it out, block out the agonizing scrape of Olivia's nipples teasing his chest hair as he continues to kiss her throat.

He presses his lips inward, feeling her arch instinctively into him as he peppers kisses down the juncture of her neck, careful to keep his lower half off her. She shifts her hips beneath him, running her feet down the plains of his calf muscle as his mouth parts heatedly against her throat.

 _God, he's not going to survive this._

She relaxes against him seemingly just going with it, sliding her free hand up and down his upper arms as her inner thighs graze his hips, their lower halves drawing closer and closer in proximity. He still has one of her hands pinned and that's when he feels her grabbing his free hand and flattening it on her exposed breast closest to the camera.

 _Fuck._

He exhales heavily in her neck, squeezing her fullness in response and pressing his lips further into her neck. He tries to play it off like it's just part of the act but he knows this is all him. She arches into him, her breast filling his palm as his thumb swipes across the raised nub, smoothing across her erect nipple causing her hips to buck against his he takes it in his thumb and forefinger and squeezes lightly.

She makes a sound, a whimper moan and he can feel himself hardening by the minute. She widens her thighs beneath him, his chest pounding at the concept that her actions are now having little to do with the camera and more to do with their need.

 _Fuck what are they doing?_

 _What is happening?_

Then he feels it – lace against his upper thigh as her legs wrap around his hips bringing their lower halves together in one mind-numbingly torturous moment. His erection presses directly against damp lace. They groan simultaneously, his hand instinctively squeezing her breast as his mouth parts against her throat.

"Are we gonna fuck Mike?" She whispers breathily. "Or do you want my mouth?"

She's just given him two choices, to start thrusting into her – or have her simulate a blow job. God he's not ready for either options right now he just needs to dislodge their lower halves or he is not going to last through this. He nips at her neck before he slides further down, her breasts scraping across his chest as his mouth moves over the peaking swells. His heart is hammering when he does it, slipping her nipple in his mouth and sucking firmly.

He feels her breath hitch as his tongue rubs across her nipple, flicking once – twice, a whimper moan escaping her throat as her hips buck into his body. Jesus what the hell is he doing? The camera can't even see his tongue. But he can't stop, she's moaning, shifting her legs wide around his waist in response and he follows the trail, down.. further...peppering light kisses cross her waist, her lower abdomen before he finally slips beneath the sheet.

 _Fuck._

He comes face to face with the expanse of black lace covering her core as her legs widen against his shoulders and his dick twitches. She stills in place, he can feel her body tense up and he's hoping to God she knows this is just for show. He's lost count of how many minutes are left but he knows there are far too many to start rocking into her yet.

"I wanna taste you." He says loudly, doing his best to imitate Mike's character so she relaxes against him but all he can focus on is the smell of her sex and her unmistakable desire.

 _God what is he even doing between her legs?_

She is a hooker for Christ stake.

 _You don't go down on hookers._

 _Do you?_

She isn't moving, she isn't reacting to his words so he presses his mouth against her inner thigh kissing her skin firmly and she finally gets the picture. She starts arching beneath him, breathing heavily as he continues his peppering kisses against her inner thigh, the mixture of her heavy breaths and the smell of her sex makes his mind spin.

He listens to her breathing steadily inclining, gauging her state as her moans get higher and higher and his mind reels at how real this all feels, sounds, tastes. He hears her orgasm start to build until she is close to her fake climax. He grasps her thighs and hips as she arches into him, her legs slipping down his back as she moans purposefully.

When he crawls up the space between them there is a throbbing ache between his legs now. His desire filled eyes lock onto hers as he cups a breast in his palm, just needing to touch – to feel her, he squeezes her firmly. She is looking up at him, her lips parted with intent before she presses against the middle of his chest and tips him until he falls onto his back.

He watches as she climbs on top of him.

"You'd think I was the one paying." She murmurs against his parted mouth before she trails her lips down his neck. He closes his eyes as she presses her lips against his throat as her damp hair fills his hands. He licks his lips as she moves lower. She's kissing him from a purposeful angle, he can feel her lower half strategically avoiding his as she starts to pepper kisses down his chest, her palms pressing against his clammy skin.

He closes his eyes against the nipping, sucking - his cock hardening at the prospect of her going lower. She presses her mouth into his pecks, his stomach, his abs, before she is disappearing beneath the sheet and out of view. He feels her move between his legs, her shoulders widening his thighs and he sucks in a breath, pressing his eyes closed, knowing she's just come face to face with his fully fledged hardon and there is nothing he can do to hide his desire for her.

He takes a few measured breaths, not knowing what to expect. He can feel her head hovering above his penis and he swallows. What the hell were they thinking? What kind of ingenious idea was this to bide time? He would have been better off thrusting against her body than to feel his partners breath exhaling against his erection for minutes on end.

He swallows against the stillness.

The silence is deafening.

 _Fuck_.

 _Sorry Liv._

Logistics, kissing, sucking, grinding, close proximity. Human bodies. He had no hope. In fact he's shocked he hasn't come just at the concept of her staring at his erection right now. He's just about to drag her back up when he feels it. Her hands smoothing down his outer thighs as her mouth begins to press against his inner thigh in the same way he'd kissed her.

He closes his eyes, his heart hammering as he starts to rock his hips in union with her movements, pretending to thrust into her mouth as she runs her lips across his skin. He can feel the head of his penis knock against cotton with each thrust, painfully erect and desperate for relief. He feels her shift course then, her mouth instead pressing against his pelvis, kissing him just above the waistband of his underwear. That's when he feels it, his mouth parting as the length of his covered erection presses flush up against her throat.

 _Fuck Liv._

He wants to groan.

Did she mean to do that?

His body aches to press against her.

She doesn't shift her position, just continues to kiss him, her lips teasing the waistband, her tongue darting out as his covered penis knocks against her breasts now and this doesn't feel like a simulation anymore.

It's a goddamn seduction.

He gives in, reaching down and tugging her up his body, her breasts scraping over his hardness on his pursuit. He rolls their bodies mid way, his erection digging into her stomach before he cups her cheeks in his palms and stares down at her, her wide eyes blinking up at him as she lets out shallow breaths, those almond brown eyes meeting him stare for stare.

He's trying to get her to speak with her eyes but all he sees is an unyielding desire.

God, she wants to fuck.

That's all he can see.

She wants this.

For real.

He's about to tell her to take this home. Not in the literal sense. They just need to fake their final orgasms and then she needs to leave. They can figure this all out later but before he has a chance she's gently moving a hand off one cheek and drawing it downward, lower.. between their bodies...moving it inward..

He thinks she's going to encourage another simulation but she isn't stopping this time and before he knows it his hand is smoothing across lace - warm, damp, inviting lace. She rubs him against her core, wet heat lining his fingers through the material. Her name nearly escapes from his lips but it would seem she is beating him too it, her mouth brushing the shell of his ear as she whispers away from the camera.

"Touch me El."

Throaty.

Barely audible.

And unmistakably just ..for him.

 **TBC**

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 _AN: There's a special place in hell for people who end chapters like this._


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Well that was a shitty thing to do… hopefully this will make up for it!_

 _(Also I'm taking twitter hiatus so I apologise if I'm not there, but I'm here)._

 _Thank you for your comments!_

 _Much love._

* * *

 **WILDFIRE: CHAPTER 4**

* * *

He stills against her.

 _Touch me El._

Not Mike.

El.

His mind is reeling.

The dynamic is purposeful now, intentional - irreversible.

She had said his name.

It had been a turning point.

10 years of history imploding at the mere use of two letters.

 _El._

His breath catches as she runs his hand back and forth across her panties, his rational comprehension of the situation nowhere to be found. Choices are being made, _real_ choices, ones they can no longer blame on external circumstance. Ones that will undoubtedly effect a 25 year marriage and a 10 year partnership and none of it feels real, not one part of it - this has to be a dream.

But it isn't.

She is as real beneath him as the day is long.

Asking him to _touch her._

He doesn't have time to think before she is slipping lace to the side and guiding his hand inward until his fingers are trailing across liquid heat. He groans when he meets with her dripping center and his forehead knocks into hers suddenly. She is breathing heavily as he parts her legs with his knee, running the rough pad of this thumb against her clit and she groans into his ear. He feels lightheaded - dizzy, as he slides two fingers down her entrance, her throaty vocal encouragement making his chest pound.

She's so ..damn.. ready..

He wonders how many years she has been ready for him because for him, it's been impossibly long. He's still thinking about their choices, the line in the sand, the fact that they can still turn back from this but he's kidding himself if he thinks that's possible, because that point was reached the moment he drove his tongue into her mouth. She's rocking beneath his touch now and it's a vocal plea, he can't hold back any longer - he slips a finger inside her tight folds, stretching her, filling her, barely giving her time to adjust before a second slides in.

"Un-gh," she arches backwards as he penetrates her fully, her walls clamping tightly around his thick fingers. He presses forward, the heel of his palm connecting with her clit and she lets out a sound as her body tightens around him. He thinks for a moment she's about to come but she steadies her breathing, her eyes slipping open, blind desire staring back up at him. His mouth runs dry, unable to tear his eyes off hers as he moves inside her walls, watching every response, every flicker, every movement, every exhale that passes through her lips, not wanting to miss a second of her response to him.

He continues languid, gentle strokes before he is curling his fingers inward, pressing into her g-spot causing her body to buck in response. He can hear his name on the tip of her tongue so he moves forward, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he speaks.

"Don't say it," his throaty timbre warns and her eyes slip closed. He catalogues her feel, her scent, her texture, still wading through sheer disbelief that this is actually happening. That's when he starts to feel her hand encircling the waistband of his underwear, cotton brushing the tip of his cock as she tugs it downward, their bodies proximity restrictive but she navigates it low enough to slip his erection out of his briefs.

She encircles his hardness and he groans into her neck.

This isn't happening.

She starts to stroke him, tugging his shaft with slow torturous caresses, the tip of his penis knocking her stomach with each pull. Her thumb smoothing over the head of his penis giving him a slow torturous head massage as he continues to slide languidly inside her. He is breathing heavily into her neck as she starts to quicken her movements and he moves up suddenly grasping her wrist off his cock and pinning it to the bed, his hardness pressing into her stomach as he exhales against her mouth.

 _Fuck they are so close._

So close.

He could..

She could..

 _Olivia-fucking-Benson._

The makings of her name start to escape his lips.

"Don't say it," she rasps against his hold.

God he needs to come.

 _Badly._

He wonders if that was her plan - to get them both off with their hands.

Because that's what they need.

A release.

To allow the blood flow to actually reach their brains once more so they can use them again. But he realizes her mind isn't on ending this anytime soon, in fact she is hooking her underwear with her free hand, dragging them down her hips and slipping them down her thighs. His mind spins when she seizes the waistband of his briefs, creating a similar path down his thighs before she is moving them completely off.

His heart is hammering as she gives him an unspoken look, he registers it's an out, a choice, it's clear now where her head is at and he has to choose if he's coming along for the ride. He knows things will be different, guilt is singeing his sides, he cannot even fathom the mess this will create between him. Between his wife. His job. Ruptured partnerships. Ruptured homes. His whole life is imploding in one irreversible decision.

He's about to lose his wife and his partner in one go.

But it's _his_ choice to make he thinks and if he's brutally honest the decision had been made well before tonight.

His eyes must have reflected his surrender because she is tipping him onto his back attempting to hook a leg over his waist to straddle him but he grabs her suddenly, moving her back down on the bed, her breasts bobbing from the motion her hair fanning out once more and it's a few silent breaths before he moves on top of her in one fluid, intentional motion.

He started this with her tonight and _he_ was going to end it.

Not her.

He can't give her any reason to run from this.

This is all him.

He cups a cheek in his palms, so many words he wants to say but he's muted by circumstance and barriers. He prays his eyes convey it all and when she slides her hands up and down his forearms he knows it's silent encouragement, acknowledgement - surrender.

 _It's okay El._

He takes a breath, spreading her legs with his hips, the tip of his cock knocking her entrance and they both moan simultaneously. _Fuck_. He's in pure undeniable agony and knows he can't hold off any longer. He starts to press forward, the tip of his cock penetrating slowly as he watches the disbelief fill her features. He feels her walls clench around him and he moans into her ear, her hips spreading to the span of his as he penetrates her fully.

"Ugh," she whispers when their hips connect. "Fuhh-el –- …" her jumbled response tapers off as he starts to move inside her, small, gentle languid thrusts that that start to build steadily into longer, more purposeful, heated strides.

He cannot believe this is Olivia.

Beneath him.

Around him.

The bed moans underneath them, wooden creeks, springs scratching, a backdrop to their breathless gasps and moans. She is looking up at him, a myriad of emotions splaying across her face, pleasure, want, uncertainty, desire. He wants to wipe the uncertainty off her face but in the absence of words he simply thumbs her cheek before he presses his lips against hers, holding her in a firm peck until they are both gasping for breath.

He knows they both don't have long.

A shitload of extended foreplay will do that to a person. But he catalogues all the different ways in which he wants to explore her, taste her, discover her at a later date praying she will give him another chance, that she won't close up after this, that this won't be the mistake, the rupture, the final nail in their coffin. Then it hits him like a wave, he needs to say it, _those three words,_ just in case it's the only chance he ever gets.

"I love you Liv," he whispers against her temple, barely audible, his chest pounding at the concept of voicing something he had felt for so long damming the consequences. He doesn't care about the cameras anymore, if he dies tonight at least he will die knowing she knows how he feels. Her hands cup his cheeks, her mouth seeking out his lips before she is parting them, sliding her tongue into his depths for the first time tonight and his lower half pangs in response. He swipes the tip of her tongue with his, silent admissions passing between their lips, tongues, mouths - filling the spaces where words couldn't.

"Please," she chokes against his lips reminding him that he's still hard inside her, that they're still on the clock - that they're on borrowed time now. He rocks into her firmly once - twice before he starts to build up a steady momentum and it doesn't take long before she is writhing, whimpering, arching into his fast and purposeful thrusts. Her fingers dig into the back of his neck, each exhale coming out as a moan or a gasp before he finally hears a strained howl rip from the back of her throat as he slams into her, her walls clutching around him like a vice as she comes.

He groans into her ear, her orgasm triggering his own as white heat spills inside her and he finally lets go.

Of all of it.

A decade of restraint.

The fight leaves his body completely as he collapses into her heavily, his heart hammering, chest pounding, knowing they're bounded together in ways they hadn't even begun to explore yet. He feels her still riding out the remnants of her orgasm, her walls spasming around him, her chest straining for breath and as he blinks his eyes open and he takes her in, feeling as if he'd been on the cusp of a 10 year awakening and had only just roused.

Their jagged breaths are still intermingling when he hears it, trapped in the depths of her throat, buried deep beneath any fears and uncertainty she must have been wading through but with just enough oxygen the admission falls from her lips.

 _I love you too._

 **TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

_AN:_ _I've been absolutely loving your response to this fic, your reviews have been great, thank you so much for your continued support!_ _As you've probably noticed post consummation scenes are not my jam (hence all the unfinished fics) but_ _I was asking recently which ones you wanted updates for the most and this one came up so h_ _opefully this is what you were after. Thanks for reading._

* * *

 **The Next Morning**

She wakes up to the sounds of her phone blaring next to her, her alarm sounding from her bedside table. She grasps the device, shutting it off before she lays back against the pillow with a sigh. The first thing she registers is the soreness between her legs, the second thing she registers is the pang in her heart.

All telltale signs that it hadn't been a dream.

She had slept with her partner.

She blinks up at the ceiling, the concept far too overwhelming to fathom.

It hadn't been a conscious choice, there was no premeditation, in fact it was the last thing she had expected would happen when she had gone over there last night.

She had been there to help him, warn him - and as a result their partnership had essentially ruptured.

They had been cornered.

It had just happened.

And now here she was bathing in this strange sensation of nothingness.

 _I love you too._

God.. how did she let it get to that point?

She knows in her heart of hearts it didn't have to go that far, physically, mentally, emotionally, sexually.. she could have reined it in at any point but she didn't, in fact she blatantly drove it forward. The moment his lips made contact with hers she had lost all train of sensibility. She hadn't just pushed the envelope, she had tossed it right over the edge.

She slides the phone back towards her and stares at the screen once more, there are no new messages but it doesn't surprise her. She knows they had taken his phone so there would be no way of contacting her even if he wanted to.

She scrubs a hand over her face, exhaling heavily into her hand, the concept of waking up alone in her apartment feeling beyond real, almost as if it didn't happen. But the telltale signs of his presence aren't just physical or emotional, they extend to his scent, the one that's now ghosting her sheets until she washes them again. She hadn't showered last night and as much as she tells herself it was due to sheer exhaustion she knows she was clinging to these final fragments of their evening together, knowing it very well could be their last.

She cannot believe she slept with her partner.

 _Her married partner._

The guilt from that singes through the deepest parts of her chest.

She knows it will be a while until she hears from him again, until she can make it right but it's the not knowing that makes it the hardest.

* * *

 **The Following Evening**

Her fingers tap quietly against the glass of red she has been nursing.

It has nearly been 48 hours since their night together.

She had considered going out tonight to take her mind off things, to distract herself but she'd opted for a night in front of television instead.

As she flicks mindlessly through the barrage of channels she hears a light tap on her door, so quiet she wonders if she had even heard it. She mutes the TV and wades through the silence until she hears it again, a little louder this time.

"Liv?"

She hears his muffled voice through the door and does a double take.

She hadn't expected him to be here tonight, she'd imagined it would be days until she'd see his face again. She lifts herself off the couch, making her way over to the door, peering through the peephole just incase she had been imagining it.

But there he was, clear as day.

Elliot Stabler.

She pulls open the door and they lock eyes for a brief moment before his gaze drop down to her worn white t-shirt and faded jeans. She realizes she's in her house clothes with her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She had showered by this point at least, so for that small detail she was thankful.

She clutches the ridge of the door, unsure of what to say but thankful to see him alive.

"Hey." He says almost tentatively.

He looks about as awkward as she feels.

She doesn't respond in words, her mind trying to reconcile the sight of him on her doorstep.

He looks briefly down the hallway before he looks back at her.

"Can I come in?"

She realizes she's barricading him from entering so she drops her hand, stepping aside and allowing him to enter her apartment and when she turns around she finds him staring at her with a look on his face as if he's come bearing news that she isn't going to like.

"Are you still under?" she asks cautiously, concern emanating that it may not be safe for him to be here.

"No." He says, having trouble holding her eye contact. "We… did the drop last night," he explains. "Fin and I. We made the arrests," he pauses briefly to gauge her reaction. "The case is over."

"Oh," she says slowly, it all falling into place now as to why her weekend hadn't been interrupted with the green light to move in. He sees the question embedded in her eyes and scrubs a hand over the stubble he hasn't shaved before he answers it.

"I asked Cragen to take you off the case."

Her eyes widen at that and when he doesn't explain it further she turns away from him, trying to reign in her disbelief that this is happening.

She lets out a quiet scoff. "Right.." she says a little too tersely into the empty living room.

"It's not like that Liv," he steps forward, his fingers lightly brushing her upper arm, gently turning her back to face him. "I just needed ..a clear head okay after..." he stops himself from actually saying the words and just holds her stare. "You can understand that right?"

Her eyes fall down to where he is holding her.

"Is this how it's going to be now?" She barely looks back up at him when she says it. "You making decisions about our partnership without even checking in with me?"

He lets go of her.

"Liv I couldn't check in with you." He says as if she should know this. "You are getting that aren't you?"

More silence.

"Look," he says finally. "After what went down, I couldn't take the risk.. I had to keep you out of it," he explains.

"Out of my job?" She spits back.

He stares at her.

"Safe Olivia." He says through gritted teeth.

She curses quietly under her breath, turning away from him once more, knowing his actions were derived from fear and fear alone and that any notion of her safety was pure bullshit.

"Don't do this," he rasps to her back, feeling him stepping up behind her. "Don't make this more than it has to be."

She swings around.

"I'm not even sure what this is Elliot?" She tells him to his face. "You've made the decision to end our partnership and I get it, I do – it was the right one, it just would have been nice after 12 years to be a part of that conversation."

The air stills around them.

"I didn't end our partnership," he says firmly.

She blinks back at him, her eyes moving in between his as she debates her next choice of words.

"Well what are you waiting for?"

She knows she's letting anger drive this right now so she doesn't have to face anything deeper but she's also completely thrown by his actions. He looks pissed as hell at her comment but he doesn't rise to her level, instead he moves his eyes slowly between hers until he speaks.

"Can we be adults about this please?" he whispers.

She stares back at him, her mind ticking over in response to that statement. Ordinarily she'd be offended by a comment like that but a part of her knows he's right, she isn't exactly handling this well and he is doing everything in his power to try and disarm her, talk her down off the ledge.

"I made a decision," he fills the silence. "I thought it was the right one. I'm sorry if it wasn't."

She remains quiet, he has given her nothing left to battle and she knows he's right, had they continued with the case last night it wouldn't have been the ethical or safe choice.

He did the right thing.

"I get it," she begins nervously. "I do El." She looks away from him. "This is all just.."

Her words trail off and a few beats pass before she runs a hand through her hair, a sudden bout of nervousness overtaking as to where to go from here. She secretly hopes he will fill the silence but when he doesn't her lips part in preparation, suddenly not sure she can do this anymore.

"Is this the part where you backtrack Liv?" He can tell by the look in her eye that's where she is headed. "Tell me that it shouldn't have happened?"

Her eyes plead with him to reason with her.

"You know it shouldn't have happened," she responds in a whisper. "Surely that's one thing we can agree on?"

He shakes his head, so slightly that if she weren't staring at him so hard she may have missed it.

"So you regret it then?" His eyes move to the wall behind her not sure he can face her answer. "That what you're telling me?"

The question and his lack of eye contact makes her chest ache.

"El, you're married." She responds, as if that part had escaped him. "We can argue about this all you like, but the facts are the facts."

She is letting her rational mind do the talking but her chest is hammering a million miles beneath her calm exterior.

When it appears he isn't going to respond she takes a small step forward trying to get him to look at her again.

"El," she cocks her head to the side giving him a sad smile. "I appreciate that you're here, trying to save our partnership.. to make sure we're okay, I really do - but don't you think you should be focusing on trying to save your marriage."

He does a double take at that, giving her a look as if he can't believe she's just gone there.

"That what you want?" He says quickly, almost too quickly, his adams apple bobbing up and down. She doesn't look away when she says it.

"This isn't about what I want."

The air between them hardens and she can feel his impatience increasingly lesson at her indifference. She flexes her fingers nervously beneath his gaze, not entirely sure what he wants her to say or do, wishing she could be anywhere else but here right now.

"Answer the question Olivia."

She can't look at him at that point.

"I'm not going to answer it Elliot," she whispers to the floor.

She knows that was an answer in itself.

"I'm not leaving till you do." He whispers to her bowed head.

Her eyes move up to his again.

"I'm sorry Elliot," she whispers, trying desperately to avoid this conversation. "I screwed up..I.. this is all on me, none of this would have happened if I hadn't.." Her eyes start to prick with impending emotion, not realizing how culpable she actually was until this very moment. She tears her eyes away from him and sucks back the emotion. "Look I'm going to talk to Cragen tomorrow okay.. I think you should talk to Kathy." Her words come out uneven and there'd be no way he'd have missed the raw emotion she was displaying.

"Olivia we both made choices in that room." He treads carefully. "We both had an out and we didn't take it. This isn't about pointing fingers."

Her chest pounds beneath his dismissal.

"What is this about then?" She whispers, desperately scared of the answer.

"Whether or not you regret it.." he doesn't miss a beat, still waiting for her to answer.

Olivia's eyes swing up to his and they flicker with a hint of trepidation.

She shakes her head slightly, her voice cracking with emotion when she speaks.

"El, what you're asking is irrelevant. Do you really think what happened between us would have happened under any other circumstance?" She presses. "We were backed into a corner."

He steps forward suddenly and it causes her to brush the wall behind her lightly, her breath catching in response.

"We backed ourselves into that corner Olivia," he whispers down at her, his soft eyes moving between hers. "And to answer your question yes, I do think it would have happened under other circumstances."

She feels lightheaded from his words, his sentiment, his proximity.

"So I'm going to ask you again," he whispers slowly. "Do you regret it?"

Her lips part, intending to answer him but she is voiceless in that moment, she knows she can't deny him any longer so she simply shakes her head at his questioning gaze before looking off to the side.

"No I don't El.. I don't regret it."

When her eyes finally return to his she sees a wave of relief filling his features and the makings of a far away smile ghosting his lips.

"Okay." He whispers as if something had just ticked over in his mind, his hand lightly brushes her upper arm before he squeezes it softly. He stills for a good moment just looking at her before he begins to step away.

She watches him make the short distance towards her door before he turns back to her questioning eyes.

"I'm going to talk to Kathy.. sort a few things out." He scrubs a hand over his stubble. "Tomorrow.. we can talk to Cragen about a possible reassignment."

She pushes herself off the wall and takes the few steps towards him.

"Elliot," she whispers, a bout of nervousness overtaking. "This is all very raw, I think you should take some time to think this through," she tells him honestly. "And what this would mean..for everyone concerned. Please don't do anything rash."

The air stills between them as he considers her.

"Liv I've had 12 years to think about this and what it would mean." His eyes coast softly across her features. "I don't need anymore time."

Her chest pounds at what he is telling her, at what exactly he had just admitted to.

 _12 years._

A long expansive silence moves between them as he waits her out.

"Unless you do.." he whispers softly, suddenly concerned that could be the issue. "Need more time that is?"

She considers what he is asking her before she slowly shakes her head no.

He gives her a small smile before he starts to turn her door handle.

"I'll see you tomorrow Liv," he whispers. "I'll bring the coffee."

Then it's moments before he is gone.

 **TBC**

* * *

 _AN: I was SO close to ending this here just so I could have at least one fic finished but figured it's only fair to let them consummate their relationship the RIGHT way._

 _I mean if that's what you want? ;) Otherwise I could just as easily leave this here. I'll leave that part up to you.._


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Wow thank you so much for the reviews on this one! I was quite surprised by how much attention this little fic got. This is the final chapter (back by popular demand), it's short and sweet and probably isn't everything you wanted (or what I'd originally alluded to) but alas it's all I have in my tank these days._ _Thanks so much for sticking around for decades and being patient with me as I try to close off all these fics one by one. X_

* * *

 **THREE NIGHTS LATER**

The knock on her door was tentative, to the point where she wasn't sure she had heard it at all. The second knock came a little firmer and she lifted herself off the couch.

She checks the peephole, then opens the door to find her partner holding a bottle of wine and a bag of takeout food with familiar packaging. He gives her the briefest of smiles before he walks through the threshold, stopping to greet her physically, only to realise his hands are full and instead moves further towards the counter.

He sets the food down quietly and she walks up beside him, her hands going for the takeout bag instead of him. She then reaches downward to grab some plates from a low draw remembering in that moment that she was sporting a scoop neck white t-shirt that dips a little lower than the shirts she wears to work and when she looks back up at him she catches him eyeing her cleavage.

He gives her a smile as he stands there in her kitchen watching her.

"I hope you're hungry." He tells her.

There is no innuendo in his tone, but there is enough in his stare that she pieces it together.

Yes, she is hungry.

Damn straight she is hungry.

In more ways than one.

She starts to pull off the takeout lids and begins to plate up their meals.

A wave of silence passes through them and it occurs to her in that moment that they've barely said two words to each other since he arrived. She knows civilised people would have a conversation first. _How was your day? How was work?_ Only they'd already spent the better part of the day together at work, they both knew how their days went, so there was no need for pleasantries, plus she actually _was_ damn hungry.

"Sorry I'm late." He breaks the silence and she gives him a look as she opens the cutlery draw, knocking his hip lightly in the process, motioning for him to move so she can open it fully. "A day late." He corrects moving out of her way so she can easily get to the utensils.

He was supposed to come around last night only things didn't go to plan. His conversation with Kathy a few nights prior coupled with the all nighter they both had to pull last night when their suspect had skipped bail meant their dinner conversation would have to wait.

It was probably for the best given that things were so raw. In fact, she was surprised he didn't just use the excuse of lack of sleep to pad this out even further, draw it out till the end of the week, _hell the end of the month_ – just to give things a chance to really settle.

But he didn't.

And now he is here - in her kitchen, trying to keep his eyes off her cleavage.

She starts to pour the first glass of red when she feels him step a little closer. She then attends to the second glass when she feels his hand on the small of her back, closing the space between them, drawing her into his side before kissing her on the temple.

Her temple, not her lips but her hand still shakes as she pours the wine.

They don't do this.

Touch.

So intimately.

So blatantly.

He'd thrown her a few subtle glances at the station but they had been in public, surrounded by colleagues, both in work mode, stressed out and focused. But he touches her now that they're alone and it feels very, very different.

She places the wine bottle on the counter before she collects one of the glasses and hands it to him. She then picks up her own and uses the obligatory clink to pad some space between them to break the tension - only when the glasses clink she realises this isn't something to celebrate.

She had broken up his marriage.

Finished.

Finito.

She takes a guilty sip before setting it back down on the counter, fingering the base of the glass awkwardly as she tries to think of something to say.

"Liv." He lifts a hand, smoothing his fingers across the base of her neck, his thumb swiping back and forth beneath her hairline.

It gives her shivers.

"We're just having dinner."

Her mouth opens to respond but instead her eyes drift down to his chest, towards his dress pants, then back up to his chest. She hadn't meant to cop such a blatant look but he's here in her kitchen, wearing a fitted grey t-shirt and a leather jacket that was already doing things to her.

 _Just dinner._

She manages a mildly convincing smile before she separates herself from him physically.

"We should sit."

She motions towards the couch. The couch with the comfortable cushioning surface and a sitting length that would easily accommodate both their horizontal bodies. She can see it now, his hand slipping up her loose fitting t-shirt, grasping white lace as he presses his lips into her neck while she arches into his palm. She assumes that's how it will go. They'll barely get through their dinner before they're grinding their lower halves together like two horny teenagers.

She feels him start to move in that direction and she grasps his arm last minute to still him from passing but it's a mistake because she can feel the hardness of his forearm and she's right back there undercover - beneath him, grasping his arms, his biceps.

She looks up at him and thinks about kissing him now - screw dinner, it's nearly been a week since she's felt his body this close to hers but she knows she should have some sense of decorum and wait until they've eaten at least.

 _Just dinner._

"Lets sit at the table instead." She changes course.

So that's what they do.

They sit down at her dinner table on opposing sides like they're conducting a business meeting. She figures a wooden surface between them wouldn't go astray but now her hands are running across the smooth table top and all she can think about is how it would feel against her back as he thrusts into her.

"You okay?" He questions with concern and she looks up from the table.

She shouldn't be this hyper focused on sex, but she'd been lying if she hadn't thought about it every single minute since that night together. Only she can't be thinking about sex, not when things were so raw between them, not when his conversation with Kathy had only just taken place, not when the boundaries between them were still undetermined and their future so blurred.

 _Just dinner._

"I'm good," she finally responds.

"Liv." He doesn't buy it. "You wanna talk about it?"

She remains silent and he can tell something is up, of course he can – he's had a decade of experience by her side, he knows her tells, and just because they're contemplating entering this new phase in their relationship doesn't mean she's miraculously going to be able to hide things from him now.

"Talk about what?" She tries regardless.

"Our plan." He doesn't allow her stall. "Talking to Cragen.. the partner swap." He stirs his food around with his fork, gauging her reaction.

She doesn't respond in words, just takes a sip of her wine and it feels like a strange dance between them that she's forgotten the moves to.

 _Talk to Cragen._

 _Partner swap._

She lets the conversation stagnate hoping he will just take the reins on all of this, tell her exactly what he plans to do or say but it doesn't look like he's going to.

"Okay," she finally responds. "Whatever you want El."

He gives her a look that she recognises well and her eyes drop down to the plate in front of her so she can recalibrate. She feels the room slowly drop into an uneasy silence and any light-hearted energy between them dissipates. "I just mean…" she stares down at her plate when she says it. "That this is your choice to make, if you do make it," her eyes lift up to his, "not mine."

He is deathly silent at that and she can feel the intensity of his stare starting to form to a crescendo.

"And what _do_ you want Liv?"

He emphasises the ' _do'_ as if he assumes she has no idea herself and when she doesn't respond he shakes his head at her like he had been waiting for this – as if he'd expected this of her and was pissed she'd just proved him right.

He sits back in his chair.

"Are we back to backtracking?"

His defences are thick and she knows she only has seconds to disarm him.

"No." She cuts him off, staring at him dead on, making it clear he is misreading her.

"Then what?"

"I just want this to be.." her eye contact slips away as she searches for the right word. "Easy," she settles on, despite knowing it sounds incredibly naive.

"Easy?" He repeats with an eyebrow raise as if he's misheard her.

"Yes, and it's not.." she explains with a look. "It's not easy at all."

He lets out a quiet laugh of disbelief. "Right ..and life is Liv?"

"What I'm saying is-"

"Liv we're just having dinner, it's not that complicated."

She shakes her head. "Yeah.. you keep saying that."

He scrubs a hand over his face in frustration, giving her a look full of exasperation and she mirrors his irritation.

She fingers the empty wine glass in response, wishing the red liquid would miraculously fill to the top so she had something to distract from the depth of this conversation.

"Look," he drops his tone into an unexpected state of calmness. "At the end of the day this is as complicated as we make it so you can push all the reasons why this is too hard between us and smother this thing before it has a chance to ignite, but it's not going to change how I feel about you." He waits a few beats before he says it. "Nothing will."

She swallows at that and she nearly gives in right then and there but she can't.

She just can't.

There is a large part of her that still needs to know how much damage she has caused.

She waits a few obligatory beats before she says it.

"How is she?"

The room stills.

 _He knows who._

She doesn't need to say it.

It was the white hot elephant in the room the moment he'd arrived.

"Is she okay?"

It's a stupid question, she knows that.

 _Of course she isn't okay._

But she's trying to get her point across, if he thinks that a 25 year marriage, 5 kids and a 10 year partnership isn't complicated then he needs to wake up to the collateral damage they've caused. But he is just staring at her, surprised that she's even going there, pissed that she'd just deflected their prior conversation.

"She will be."

He looks like he's visibly trying not to bite.

"Olivia this isn't news to her and this shouldn't be to you either. So do you wanna stop deflecting now? You know this is just fear talking."

"This is practicality talking."

"Screw practicality." He slams his hand on the table. "Would you stop trying to be a martyr for one goddamned second in your life and just tell me what you really want?"

"I want _this_." She slams her hand down just as loudly, her heart pounding in her chest at the intensity of her delivery.

She watches a look of surprise take over his face, and a wave of instant relief coats his shoulders.

It scares her how badly that's the truth of it.

"But?" His voice cracks, because he can sense it can't be as simple as that.

She blinks back at him.

"But.. I'm just so angry that we.. that I.." her words trail off and he doesn't help her out. He doesn't save her this time. He doesn't assume half the blame, he just leaves her to mull in the truth she's so hell bent on trying to bury and maybe finally admit something to him that she hasn't even admitted to herself. The silence extends between them and she wishes she could reverse time, to before their night together, before her confession just now.

"I just.." she finally continues. "It shouldn't have happened that way ..and I really wish that it hadn't."

"Me too," he agrees.

She looks surprised by his answer.

"I'm sorry," she says as her eyes move apprehensively between his.

A few beats pass.

"Me too." He repeats.

Then it's a few waves of silence before he speaks again.

"Look it was wrong." He whispers. "We can both agree on that, but we both made a choice that night and we can either continue to beat ourselves up about it or we can accept that this was needed for us to finally be honest with each other." He lets out a breath. "It's how we handle things from here that matters."

She looks down at her plate once more.

"I know El.. you're right."

"Liv this is all I've thought about for days." He speaks to her bowed head before she slowly lifts it to meet his stare. "Getting to this point where we can just talk about this." He catches the remnants of uncertainty that still exists in her eyes. "And we don't have to decide anything tonight, I just need to know that you're still on my team Liv."

A few beats pass before she gives him a reassuring smile.

"I've always been on your team El."

* * *

The last plate had been stacked in the dishwasher and Olivia is wiping the counter when he speaks.

"You want me to go?" He asks quietly from behind her. "Let you get some rest?"

When she turns around she catches him leaning against the counter with his arms folded giving her a neutral look.

"No." She responds.

He drops his arms and he steps a little closer.

"You want me to stay?"

He looks at her like he still needs clarification.

She hesitates for a brief moment and he can see her mind ticking over at a million miles an hour.

She wants him to stay, of course she does, but she can't hide the fact that she is still wrestling with the reality of this, let alone the guilt of it all.

"It's okay," he clarifies with a disarming smile, knowing her silence is an answer in itself. "I'll go." he whispers as he steps closer. "But before I do, I just gotta do one thing."

Her eyes involuntary drop to his lips as he cups her jaw, a few seconds hanging in the air until he is running his lips softly across hers before pressing against them fully. Her breath catches as he deepens the unexpected kiss, both of them holding their breath as his lips part hers. He grasps her lower lip between his and sucks pressing her a little more intently against the counter. She moans at the unexpected motion before he tilts her head and slides his tongue into her mouth. A sound gets trapped in the back of her throat as he swipes the tip of her tongue with his. She wants to groan, her mind swarming as his hands slide down to her waist, dragging her forward until he pulls back with a slick pop, resting his forehead against hers.

"It just about killed me not to kiss you properly," he whispers against her forehead, as he wrestles with his sudden desire.

He is different from undercover. Elliot had been the reserved, tentative one, unsure of boundaries and not wanting to overstep – but now he is intentional and focused.

He waits for her silent acknowledgement before he moves forward once more, and she gets lost in the second kiss as his lips seek hers out. His hands rake through her hair, his mouth claiming parts of her that had laid dormant for years and her breath continues to catch with each kiss.

Her heart is slamming against his chest and that's when she realises she is nervous.

She doesn't get nervous.

She isn't this person.

They'd already slept together.

Why the hell is she nervous?

She pulls back suddenly, padding a little space between their bodies, the intensity between them dropping a few notches as her eyes search his.

"I know Liv," he whispers in the space left between them, as if he is reading her mind and he gives her a smile knowing he got carried away. "I'm going. Despite appearances, I actually do wanna take this slow."

Her mind and chest is still racing madly in thought, he is telling her he isn't going to stay but she isn't quite ready to let him go.

She moves forward dragging her thumb across the stubble of his cheek before she presses her mouth wholeheartedly against his, slowly nudging his lips apart, nipping his lower lip and sucking languidly.

He moans in response.

"Stay," she mumbles between kisses, ghosting her lips across his. "Stay.. and we'll take it slow."

He pulls back, allowing his eyes to take in her features as he gives her a warm smile.

"Okay Liv," he runs his thumb across her cheek before he leans in to ghost his lips across hers in response. "Slow it is."

 **End.**


End file.
